3
第03节
I'm the most terrific liar you ever saw in your life. It's awful. If I'm on my way to the store to buy a magazine, even, and somebody asks me where I'm going, I'm liable to say I'm going to the opera. It's terrible. So when I told old Spencer I had to go to the gym and get my equipment and stuff, that was a sheer lie. I don't even keep my goddam equipment in the gym.
你这一辈子大概没见过比我更会撤谎的人。说来真是可怕。我哪怕是到铺子里买一份杂志，有人要是在路上见了我，问我上哪儿去，我也许会说去看歌剧。真是可怕。因此我虽然跟老斯宾塞说了要到体育馆去收拾东西，其实完全是撤谎。我甚至并不把我那些混帐体育用具放在体育馆里。
Where I lived at Pencey, I lived in the Ossenburger Memorial Wing of the new dorms. It was only for juniors and seniors. I was a junior. My roommate was a senior. It was named after this guy Ossenburger that went to Pencey. He made a pot of dough in the undertaking business after he got out of Pencey. What he did, he started these undertaking parlors all over the country that you could get members of your family buried for about five bucks apiece. You should see old Ossenburger. He probably just shoves them in a sack and dumps them in the river. Anyway, he gave Pencey a pile of dough, and they named our wing alter him. The first football game of the year, he came up to school in this big goddam Cadillac, and we all had to stand up in the grandstand and give him a locomotive--that's a cheer. Then, the next morning, in chapel, be made a speech that lasted about ten hours. He started off with about fifty corny jokes, just to show us what a regular guy he was. Very big deal. Then he started telling us how he was never ashamed, when he was in some kind of trouble or something, to get right down his knees and pray to God.
我在潘西的时候，就住在新宿舍的“奥森贝格纪念斋”里。那儿只住初中生和高中生。我是初中生。跟我同房的是一个高中生。这个斋是以一个从潘西毕业的校友奥森贝格为名的。他离开潘西以后，靠做殡仪馆生意发了横财。他在全国各地都设有殡仪馆停尸场，你只要付五块钱，就可以把你的家属埋葬掉。你真应该见见老奥森贝格。他或许光是把尸体装在麻袋里，往河里一扔完事。不管怎样，他给了潘西一大笔钱，他们就把我们佐的新斋以他的名字命名。今年头一次举行橄榄球赛，他坐了他那辆混帐大“凯迪拉克”来到学校里，我们大伙儿还得在看台上全体肃立，给他来一个“火车头”——那就是一阵欢呼。第二天早晨，他在小教堂里向我们演讲，讲了足足有十个钟头。他一开始就讲了五十来个粗俗的笑话，向我们证明他是个多么有趣的人物。真了不起。接着他告诉我们说，每逢他有什么困难，他从来不怕跪下来向上帝祷告。
He told us we should always pray to God--talk to Him and all--wherever we were. He told us we ought to think of Jesus as our buddy and all. He said he talked to Jesus all the time. Even when he was driving his car. That killed me.
他教我们经常向上帝祷告——跟上帝无话不谈——不管我们是在什么地方。他教我们应该把耶酥看作是我们的好朋友。他说他自己就时时刻刻在跟耶稣谈话，甚至在他开车的时候。我听了真笑疼肚皮。
I just see the big phony bastard shifting into first gear and asking Jesus to send him a few more stiffs.
我可以想象这个假模假式的大杂种怎样把排档推到第一档，同时请求耶稣多开几张私人小支票给他。
The only good part of his speech was right in the middle of it. He was telling us all about what a swell guy he was, what a hot-shot and all, then all of a sudden this guy sitting in the row in front of me, Edgar Marsalla, laid this terrific fart. It was a very crude thing to do, in chapel and all, but it was also quite amusing. Old Marsalla. He damn near blew the roof off. Hardly anybody laughed out loud, and old Ossenburger made out like he didn't even hear it, but old Thurmer, the headmaster, was sitting right next to him on the rostrum and all, and you could tell he heard it. Boy, was he sore. He didn't say anything then, but the next night he made us have compulsory study hall in the academic building and he came up and made a speech. He said that the boy that had created the disturbance in chapel wasn't fit to go to Pencey. We tried to get old Marsalla to rip off another one, right while old Thurmer was making his speech, but be wasn't in the right mood. Anyway, that's where I lived at Pencey. Old Ossenburger Memorial Wing, in the new dorms.
他演讲最精采的部分是在中间部分。他正在告诉我们他自己有多么了不起，多么出人头地，坐在我们前面一排的那个家伙，马萨拉，突然放了个响屁。干这种事确实很不雅，尤其是在教堂里，可也十分有趣。老马萨拉，他差点儿没掀掉屋顶。可以说几乎没一个人笑出声来，老奥森贝格还装出压根儿没听见的样子，可是校长老绥摩也在讲台上，正好坐在他旁边，你看得出他已经听见了。嘿，他该有多难受。他当时没说什么，可是第二天晚上他让我们到办公大楼上必修课的大教室里集合，他自己就登台演讲。他说那个在教堂里扰乱秩序的学生不配在潘西念书。我们想叫老马萨拉趁老绥摩正在演讲时照样再来一个响屁，可他当时心境不好，放不出来。嗯，不管怎样，反正那就是我住的地方。老奥森贝格纪念斋，在新宿舍里。
It was pretty nice to get back to my room, after I left old Spencer, because everybody was down at the game, and the heat was on in our room, for a change. It felt sort of cosy. I took off my coat and my tie and unbuttoned my shirt collar; and then I put on this hat that I'd bought in New York that morning. It was this red hunting hat, with one of those very, very long peaks. I saw it in the window of this sports store when we got out of the subway, just after I noticed I'd lost all the goddam foils. It only cost me a buck. The way I wore it, I swung the old peak way around to the back--very corny, I'll admit, but I liked it that way. I looked good in it that way. Then I got this book I was reading and sat down in my chair. There were two chairs in every room. I had one and my roommate, Ward Stradlater, had one. The arms were in sad shape, because everybody was always sitting on them, but they were pretty comfortable chairs.
离开老斯宾塞家回到我自己房里，自另有一种舒服，因为人人都去看球赛了，房里又正好放着暖气，使人感到十分温暖适意。我脱下大衣解下领带，松了衣领上的钮扣，然后戴上当天早晨在纽约买来的那顶帽子。那是顶红色猎人帽，有一个很长、很长的鸭舌。我发现自己把所有那些混帐宝剑都丢了之后，刚下了地铁就在那家体育用品商店橱窗里看见了这顶帽子，只花一块钱买了下来。我戴的时候，把鸭舌转到脑后——这样戴十分粗俗，我承认，可我喜欢这样戴。我这么戴了看去挺美。随后我拿出我正在看的那本书，坐到自己的椅子上。每个房里都有两把椅子。我坐一把，跟我住一房的华西·斯特拉德莱塔坐另一把。扶手都不象样子了，因为谁都坐在扶手上，不过这些椅子坐着确很舒服。
The book I was reading was this book I took out of the library by mistake. They gave me the wrong book, and I didn't notice it till I got back to my room. They gave me Out of Africa, by Isak Dinesen. I thought it was going to stink, but it didn't. It was a very good book. I'm quite illiterate, but I read a lot. My favorite author is my brother D.B., and my next favorite is Ring Lardner. My brother gave me a book by Ring Lardner for my birthday, just before I went to Pencey.
我看的这本书是我从图书馆里误借来的。他们给错了书，我回到房里才发现。他们给了我《非洲见闻》。我本以为这是本臭书，其实不是，写的挺不错。我这人文化程度不高，不过看书倒不少。我最喜爱的作家是我哥哥DB，其次是林·拉德纳。在我进潘西前不久，我哥哥送了我一本拉德纳写的书，作为生日礼物。
It had these very funny, crazy plays in it, and then it had this one story about a traffic cop that falls in love with this very cute girl that's always speeding. Only, he's married, the cop, so be can't marry her or anything. Then this girl gets killed, because she's always speeding. That story just about killed me. What I like best is a book that's at least funny once in a while. I read a lot of classical books, like The Return of the Native and all, and I like them, and I read a lot of war books and mysteries and all, but they don't knock me out too much. What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn't happen much, though. I wouldn't mind calling this Isak Dinesen up. And Ring Lardner, except that D.B. told me he's dead. You take that book Of Human Bondage, by Somerset Maugham, though. I read it last summer. It's a pretty good book and all, but I wouldn't want to call Somerset Maugham up. I don't know, He just isn't the kind of guy I'd want to call up, that's all. I'd rather call old Thomas Hardy up. I like that Eustacia Vye.
书里有几个十分离奇曲折的短剧，还有一个短篇小说，讲的是一个交通警察怎样爱上了一个非常漂亮的、老是开着快车的姑娘。只是那警察已经结了婚，因此不能再跟她结婚什么的。后来那姑娘撞车死了，原因是她老开着快车。这故事真把我迷住了。我最爱看的书是那种至少有几处是别出心裁的。我看过不少古典作品，象《还乡》之类，很喜爱它们；我也看过不少战争小说和侦探故事，却看不出什么名堂来，真正有意思的是那样一种书，你读完后，很希望写这书的作家是你极要好的朋友，你只要高兴，随时都可以打电话给他。可惜这样的书并不多。我倒不在乎打电话给这位伊萨克·迪纳逊。还有林·技德纳，不过DB告诉我说他已经死了。就拿毛姆著的《人类的枷锁》说吧。我去年夏天看了这本书。这是本挺不错的书，可你看了以后决不想打电话给毛姆。我说不出道理来。只是象他这样的人，我就是不愿打电话找他。我倒宁可打电话找托马斯·哈代。我喜欢那个游苔莎·裴伊。
Anyway, I put on my new hat and sat down and started reading that book Out of Africa. I'd read it already, but I wanted to read certain parts over again. I'd only read about three pages, though, when I heard somebody coming through the shower curtains. Even without looking up, I knew right away who it was. It was Robert Ackley, this guy that roomed right next to me. There was a shower right between every two rooms in our wing, and about eighty-five times a day old Ackley barged in on me. He was probably the only guy in the whole dorm, besides me, that wasn't down at the game. He hardly ever went anywhere. He was a very peculiar guy. He was a senior, and he'd been at Pencey the whole four years and all, but nobody ever called him anything except "Ackley." Not even Herb Gale, his own roommate, ever called him "Bob" or even "Ack." If he ever gets married, his own wife'll probably call him "Ackley." He was one of these very, very tall, round-shouldered guys--he was about six four--with lousy teeth. The whole time he roomed next to me, I never even once saw him brush his teeth. They always looked mossy and awful, and he damn near made you sick if you saw him in the dining room with his mouth full of mashed potatoes and peas or something. Besides that, he had a lot of pimples. Not just on his forehead or his chin, like most guys, but all over his whole face. And not only that, he had a terrible personality. He was also sort of a nasty guy. I wasn't too crazy about him, to tell you the truth.
嗯，我戴上我那顶新帽子，开始阅读那本《非洲见闻》。这本书我早巳看完，但我想把某些部分重新看一遍。我还只看了三页，就听见有人掀开淋浴室的门帘走来。我用不着抬头看，就知道来的人是谁。那是罗伯特·阿克莱，住在我隔壁房里的那个家伙。在我们这个斋里，每两个房间之间就有个淋浴室，老阿克莱一天总要闯进来找我那么八十五回。除了我，整个宿舍里恐怕只有他一个没去看球。他几乎哪里都不去。他是个十分古怪的家伙。他是个高中生，在潘西已整整念了四年，可是谁都管他叫“阿克莱”，从不叫他名字。连跟他同屋住的赫伯·盖尔也从不叫他“鲍伯”甚至“阿克”。他以后万一结了婚，恐怕连他自己的老婆都要管他叫“阿克莱”。他是那种圆肩膀、个子极高极高的家伙——差不多有六英尺四——牙齿脏得要命。他使在我隔壁那么些时候，我从来没见他刷过一次牙。那副牙齿象是长着苔藓似的，真是脏得可怕，你要是在饭厅里看见他满嘴嚼着土豆泥和豌豆什么的，简直会使你他妈的恶心得想吐。此外他还长着满脸的粉刺。不象大多数人那样，在脑门上或者腮帮上长几颗，而是满脸都是。不仅如此，他还有可怕的性格。他为人也近于下流。说句老实话，我对他实在没什么好感。
I could feel him standing on the shower ledge, right behind my chair, taking a look to see if Stradlater was around. He hated Stradlater's guts and he never came in the room if Stradlater was around. He hated everybody's guts, damn near.
我可以感觉到他正站在我椅子背后的淋浴台上，偷看斯特拉德莱塔在不在屋里。他把斯特拉德莱塔恨得入骨，只要他在屋里，就从不进屋。他把每个人都恨得入骨，几乎可以这样说。
He came down off the shower ledge and came in the room. "Hi," he said. He always said it like he was terrifically bored or terrifically tired. He didn't want you to think he was visiting you or anything. He wanted you to think he'd come in by mistake, for God's sake.
他从淋浴台下来，走进我的房里。“唉，”他说。他老是这么唉声叹气的，好象极其腻烦或者极其疲乏似的。他不愿意让你想到他是来看望你或者拜访你什么的。他总要让你以为他是走错了路撞进来的，天知道！
"Hi," I said, but I didn't look up from my book. With a guy like Ackley, if you looked up from your book you were a goner. You were a goner anyway, but not as quick if you didn't look up right away.
“唉，”我说，可我还是照样看我的书，并没抬起头来。遇到像阿克莱这样的家伙，你要是停止看书把头抬起来，那你可就玩儿完了。你反正早晚要玩儿完，可你如果不马上抬起头来看，就不会完得那么快。
He started walking around the room, very slow and all, the way he always did, picking up your personal stuff off your desk and chiffonier. He always picked up your personal stuff and looked at it. Boy, could he get on your nerves sometimes. "How was the fencing?" he said. He just wanted me to quit reading and enjoying myself. He didn't give a damn about the fencing. "We win, or what?" he said.
他象往常一样，开始在房间里溜达起来，走得非常慢，随手从你书桌上或者五屉柜上拿起你的私人东西来看。他老是拿起你私人的东西来看。嘿，他这人有时真能叫你心里发毛。“剑斗得怎么样？”他说。他的目的只是不让我看书，不让我自得其乐。对于斗剑，他才他妈的不感兴趣呢。“我们赢了，还是怎么？”他说。
"Nobody won," I said. Without looking up, though.
“谁也没赢，”我说。可仍没抬起头来。
"What?" he said. He always made you say everything twice.
“什么？”他说。不管什么事，他总要让你说两遍。
"Nobody won," I said. I sneaked a look to see what he was fiddling around with on my chiffonier. He was looking at this picture of this girl I used to go around with in New York, Sally Hayes. He must've picked up that goddam picture and looked at it at least five thousand times since I got it. He always put it back in the wrong place, too, when he was finished. He did it on purpose. You could tell.
“谁也没赢，”我说。我偷偷地瞟了一眼，看看他在我五屉柜上翻什么东西。他在看一张相片，是一个在纽约时经常跟我一起出去玩的名叫萨丽·海斯的姑娘的相片。自从我拿到那张混帐相片以后，他拿起来看了至少有五千次了。每次看完，他总是不放回原处。他是故意这样做的。你看得出来。
"Nobody won," he said. "How come?"
“谁也没赢，”他说。“怎么可能呢？”
"I left the goddam foils and stuff on the subway." I still didn't look up at him.
“我把宝剑之类的混帐玩艺儿全都落在地铁上了。”我还是没抬起头来看他。
"On the subway, for Chrissake! Ya lost them, ya mean?"
“在地铁上，天哪！你把它们丢了，你是说？”
"We got on the wrong subway. I had to keep getting up to look at a goddam map on the wall."
“我们坐错了地铁。我老得站起来看车厢上的一张混帐地图。”
He came over and stood right in my light. "Hey," I said. "I've read this same sentence about twenty times since you came in."
他走过来干脆挡住了我的光线。“嗨，”我说，“你进来以后，我把这同一个句子都看了二十遍啦。”
Anybody else except Ackley would've taken the goddam hint. Not him, though. "Think they'll make ya pay for em?" he said.
除了阿克莱，谁都听得出我他妈的这句话里的意思。可他听不出来。“他们会叫你赔钱吗？”他说。
"I don't know, and I don't give a damn. How 'bout sitting down or something, Ackley kid? You're right in my goddam light." He didn't like it when you called him "Ackley kid." He was always telling me I was a goddam kid, because I was sixteen and he was eighteen. It drove him mad when I called him "Ackley kid."
“我不知道，我也他妈的不在乎。你坐下来或者走开好不好，阿克莱孩子？你他妈的挡住我的光线啦。”他不喜欢人家叫他“阿克莱孩子”。他老是跟我说我是个他妈的孩子，因为我只十六岁，他十八岁。我一叫他“阿克莱孩子”，就会气得他发疯。
He kept standing there. He was exactly the kind of a guy that wouldn't get out of your light when you asked him to. He'd do it, finally, but it took him a lot longer if you asked him to. "What the hellya reading?" he said.
他依旧站在那里不动。他正是那种人，你越是叫他不要挡住光线，他越是站着不动。他最后倒是会走开的，可你跟他一说，他反倒走得更慢。“你在他妈的看什么？”他说。
"Goddam book."
“一本他妈的书。”
He shoved my book back with his hand so that he could see the name of it. "Any good?" he said.
他用手把我的书往后一推，看那书名。“好不好？”他说。
"This sentence I'm reading is terrific." I can be quite sarcastic when I'm in the mood. He didn't get It, though. He started walking around the room again, picking up all my personal stuff, and Stradlater's. Finally, I put my book down on the floor. You couldn't read anything with a guy like Ackley around. It was impossible.
“我正在看的这个句子实在可怕极了。”我只要情绪对头，也很会说讽刺话。可他一点也听不出来。他又在房间里溜达起来，拿起我和斯特拉德莱塔的一切私人东西翻看。最后，我把那本书扔在地下了。有阿克莱那样的家伙在你身旁，你就甭想看书。简直不可能。
I slid way the hell down in my chair and watched old Ackley making himself at home. I was feeling sort of tired from the trip to New York and all, and I started yawning. Then I started horsing around a little bit. Sometimes I horse around quite a lot, just to keep from getting bored. What I did was, I pulled the old peak of my hunting hat around to the front, then pulled it way down over my eyes. That way, I couldn't see a goddam thing. "I think I'm going blind," I said in this very hoarse voice. "Mother darling, everything's getting so dark in here."
我往椅背上一靠，看老阿克莱怎样在我房里自得其乐。我去纽约一趟回来，觉得有点儿累，开始打起呵欠来。接着我就开始逗笑玩儿。我有时候常常逗笑取乐，好让自己不至于腻烦。我当时干的，是把我的猎人帽鸭舌转到前面，然后把鸭舌拉下来遮住自己的眼睛。这么一来，我就什么也看不见了。“我想我快要成瞎子啦，”我用一种十分沙哑的声音说。“亲爱的妈妈，这儿的一切怎么都这样黑啊。”
"You're nuts. I swear to God," Ackley said.
“你是疯子。我可以对天发誓，”阿克莱说。
"Mother darling, give me your hand, Why won't you give me your hand?"
“亲爱的妈妈，把你的手给我吧。你干吗不把你的手给我呢！”
"For Chrissake, grow up."
“老天爷，别那么孩子气了。”
I started groping around in front of me, like a blind guy, but without getting up or anything. I kept saying, "Mother darling, why won't you give me your hand?" I was only horsing around, naturally. That stuff gives me a bang sometimes. Besides, I know it annoyed hell out of old Ackley. He always brought out the old sadist in me. I was pretty sadistic with him quite often. Finally, I quit, though. I pulled the peak around to the back again, and relaxed.
我开始学瞎子那样往前瞎摸一气，可是没站起身来。我不住地说：“亲爱的妈妈，你干吗不把你的手给我呢？”我只是逗笑取乐。自然啦，这样做有时候能使我觉得十分决活。再说，我知道这还会让阿克莱烦恼得要命。他老是引起我的虐待狂。我对他往往很残忍。可是最后，我终于停止逗趣儿了。我仍将鸭舌转到脑后，稍稍休息一会儿。
"Who belongsa this?" Ackley said. He was holding my roommate's knee supporter up to show me. That guy Ackley'd pick up anything. He'd even pick up your jock strap or something. I told him it was Stradlater's. So he chucked it on Stradlater's bed. He got it off Stradlater's chiffonier, so he chucked it on the bed.
“这是谁的！”阿克莱说。他拿起我同屋的护膝给我看。阿克莱这家伙什么东西都要拿起来看。他甚至连你的下体护身也要拿起来看。我告诉他说这是斯特拉德莱塔的。他于是往斯特拉德莱塔的床上一扔。他从斯特拉德莱塔的五屉柜里拿出来，却往他的床上扔。
He came over and sat down on the arm of Stradlater's chair. He never sat down in a chair. Just always on the arm. "Where the hellja get that hat?" he said.
他过来坐在斯特拉德莱塔的椅子扶手上。他从来不坐在椅子上。老是坐在扶手上。“他妈的这顶帽子是哪儿弄的？”他说。
"New York."
“纽约。”
"How much?"
“多少钱？”
"A buck."
“一块。”
"You got robbed." He started cleaning his goddam fingernails with the end of a match. He was always cleaning his fingernails. It was funny, in a way. His teeth were always mossy-looking, and his ears were always dirty as hell, but he was always cleaning his fingernails. I guess he thought that made him a very neat guy. He took another look at my hat while he was cleaning them. "Up home we wear a hat like that to shoot deer in, for Chrissake," he said. "That's a deer shooting hat."
“你上当啦。”他开始用火柴屁股剔起他的混帐指甲来。说来可笑。他的牙齿老是污秽不堪，他的耳朵也脏得要命，可他老是剔着自己的指甲。我揣摩他大概以为这么一来，他就成了个十分干净利落的小伙子了。他剔着指甲，又望了我的帽子一眼。“在我们家乡，就戴这样的帽子打鹿，老天爷，”他说。“这是顶打鹿时候戴的帽子。”
"Like hell it is." I took it off and looked at it. I sort of closed one eye, like I was taking aim at it. "This is a people shooting hat," I said. "I shoot people in this hat."
“见你妈的鬼。”我脱下帽子看了一会儿。我还闭了一只眼睛，象是朝他瞄准似的。“这是顶打人时候戴的帽子，”我说。“我戴了它拿枪打人。”
"Your folks know you got kicked out yet?"
“你家里人知道你给开除了吗？”
"Nope."
“不知道。”
"Where the hell's Stradlater at, anyway?"
“斯特拉德莱塔他妈的到底到什么地方去了？”
"Down at the game. He's got a date." I yawned. I was yawning all over the place. For one thing, the room was too damn hot. It made you sleepy. At Pencey, you either froze to death or died of the heat.
“看球去了。他约了女朋友。”我打了个呵欠。我全身都在打呵欠。这房间实在他妈的太热了。使人困得要命。在潘西，你不是冻得要死，就是热得要命。
"The great Stradlater," Ackley said. "--Hey. Lend me your scissors a second, willya? Ya got 'em handy?"
“伟大的斯特拉德莱塔，”阿克莱说。“——嗨。把你的剪刀借给我用一秒钟，成不成？拿起来方便吗？”
"No. I packed them already. They're way in the top of the closet."
“不。我已经收拾起来了。在壁橱的最上面呢。”
"Get 'em a second, willya?" Ackley said, "I got this hangnail I want to cut off."
“拿出来借我用一秒钟，成不成？”阿克莱说。“我指头上有个倒拉刺想铰掉哩。”
He didn't care if you'd packed something or not and had it way in the top of the closet. I got them for him though. I nearly got killed doing it, too. The second I opened the closet door, Stradlater's tennis racket--in its wooden press and all--fell right on my head. It made a big clunk, and it hurt like hell. It damn near killed old Ackley, though.
他可不管你是不是已经把东西收拾起来放到了壁橱的最上面。我没办法，只好拿给他。拿的时候，还差点儿把命给送掉了。我刚打开壁橱的门，斯特拉德莱塔的网球拍——连着木架什么的——正好掉在我的头上。只听得啪的一声巨响，疼得我要命。可是乐得老阿克莱他妈的差点儿也送掉了命。
He started laughing in this very high falsetto voice. He kept laughing the whole time I was taking down my suitcase and getting the scissors out for him. Something like that--a guy getting hit on the head with a rock or something--tickled the pants off Ackley. "You have a damn good sense of humor, Ackley kid," I told him. "You know that?" I handed him the scissors. "Lemme be your manager. I'll get you on the goddam radio." I sat down in my chair again, and he started cutting his big horny-looking nails. "How 'bout using the table or something?" I said. "Cut 'em over the table, willya? I don't feel like walking on your crumby nails in my bare feet tonight."
他开始用他极高的假嗓音哈哈大笑起来。我拿下手提箱给他取剪刀，他始终哈哈地笑个不停。象这一类事——有人头上接了块石头什么的——总能让阿克莱笑得掉下裤子。“你真他妈的懂得幽默，阿克莱孩子，”我对他说。“你知道吗？”我把剪刀递给了他。“让我来当你的后台老板。我可以送你到混帐的电台上去广播。”我又坐到自己的椅子上。他开始铰他那看上去又粗又硬的指甲。“你用一下桌子好不好？”我说。“给我铰在桌子上成吗？我不想在今天夜里光着脚踩你那爪子一样的指甲。”
He kept right on cutting them over the floor, though. What lousy manners. I mean it.
可他还是照样铰在地板上。一点不懂礼貌。我说的实话。
"Who's Stradlater's date?" he said. He was always keeping tabs on who Stradlater was dating, even though he hated Stradlater's guts.
“期特拉德莱塔约的女朋友是谁？”他说。他老是打听斯特拉德莱塔约的女朋友是谁，尽管他恨斯特拉德莱塔入骨。
"I don't know. Why?"
“我不知道。干吗？”
"No reason. Boy, I can't stand that sonuvabitch. He's one sonuvabitch I really can't stand."
“不干吗。嘿，我受不了那婊子养的。那个婊子养的实在叫我受不了。”
"He's crazy about you. He told me he thinks you're a goddam prince," I said. I call people a "prince" quite often when I'm horsing around. It keeps me from getting bored or something.
“他可爱你爱得要命呢。他告诉我说他以为你是个他妈的王子，”我说。我逗趣儿的时候，常常管人叫“王子”。这能给我解闷取乐。
"He's got this superior attitude all the time," Ackley said. "I just can't stand the sonuvabitch. You'd think he--"
“他老是摆出那种高人一等的臭架子，”阿克莱说。“我实在受不了那个婊子养的，你看得出他——”
"Do you mind cutting your nails over the table, hey?" I said. "I've asked you about fifty--"
“你能不能把指甲铰在桌子上呢？嗨？”我说。“我已经跟你说了约莫五十——”
"He's got this goddam superior attitude all the time," Ackley said. "I don't even think the sonuvabitch is intelligent. He thinks he is. He thinks he's about the most--"
“他老是摆出他妈的那种高人一等的臭架子，”阿克莱说。“我甚至觉得那婊子养的缺少智力。他认为自己很聪明。他认为他大概是世界上最最——”
"Ackley! For Chrissake. Willya please cut your crumby nails over the table? I've asked you fifty times."
“阿克莱！天哪。你到底能不能把你爪子似的指甲铰在桌子上？我已经跟你说了五十遍啦。”
He started cutting his nails over the table, for a change. The only way he ever did anything was if you yelled at him.
他开始把指甲铰在桌子上，算是换换口味。你只有对他大声呦喝，他才会照着你的话去做。
I watched him for a while. Then I said, "The reason you're sore at Stradlater is because he said that stuff about brushing your teeth once in a while. He didn't mean to insult you, for cryin' out loud. He didn't say it right or anything, but he didn't mean anything insulting. All he meant was you'd look better and feel better if you sort of brushed your teeth once in a while."
我朝着他看了一会儿。接着我说：“我知道你为什么要痛恨斯特拉德莱塔，那是因为他偶尔叫你刷牙。他虽然大声嚷嚷，倒不是有心侮辱你。他说话方式不对，不过他并不是有意侮辱你。他的意思不过是说你要是偶尔刷刷牙，就会好看得多，也舒服得多。”
"I brush my teeth. Don't gimme that."
“我怎么不刷牙。别给我来这一套。”
"No, you don't. I've seen you, and you don't," I said.
“不，你不刷牙。我看见你不刷牙，”我说。
I didn't say it nasty, though. I felt sort of sorry for him, in a way. I mean it isn't too nice, naturally, if somebody tells you you don't brush your teeth. "Stradlater's all right He's not too bad," I said. "You don't know him, thats the trouble."
可我倒不是成心给他难看。说起来我还有点为他难受呢。我是说如果有人说你并不刷牙，那自然不是什么太愉快的事。“斯特拉德莱塔这人还不错。他心眼儿不算太坏，”我说。“你不了解他，毛病就在这里。”
"I still say he's a sonuvabitch. He's a conceited sonuvabitch."
“我仍要说他是婊子养的。他是个自高自大的婊子养的。”
"He's conceited, but he's very generous in some things. He really is," I said. "Look. Suppose, for instance, Stradlater was wearing a tie or something that you liked. Say he had a tie on that you liked a helluva lot--I'm just giving you an example, now. You know what he'd do? He'd probably take it off and give it ta you. He really would. Or--you know what he'd do? He'd leave it on your bed or something. But he'd give you the goddam tie. Most guys would probably just--"
“他的确自高自大，可他在某些事情上也十分慷慨。他的确是这样的，”我说。“瞧。比如斯特拉德莱塔打着根领带，你见了很喜爱。比如说他打着的那根领带你喜欢得要命——我只是随便举个例子。你知道他会怎么样？他说不定会解下来送你。他的确会。要不然——你知道他会怎么样？他会把领带搁在你床上或者其他什么地方。可他会把那根混帐领带送你。大多数人恐怕只会——”
"Hell," Ackley said. "If I had his dough, I would, too."
“他妈的，”阿克莱说。“我要是有他那么些钱，我也会这样做的。”
"No, you wouldn't." I shook my head. "No, you wouldn't, Ackley kid. If you had his dough, you'd be one of the biggest--"
“不，你不会的。”我摇摇头。“不，你不会的，阿克莱孩子。你要是有他那么些钱，你就会成为一个最最大的——”
"Stop calling me 'Ackley kid,' God damn it. I'm old enough to be your lousy father."
“别再叫我‘阿克莱孩子’，他妈的。我大得都可以当你混帐的爸爸啦。”
"No, you're not." Boy, he could really be aggravating sometimes. He never missed a chance to let you know you were sixteen and he was eighteen. "In the first place, I wouldn't let you in my goddam family," I said.
“不，你当不了。”嘿，他有时候的确讨人厌。他从不放过一个机会让你知道你是十六他是十八。“首先，我决不会让你进我那混帐的家门，”我说。
"Well, just cut out calling me--"
“呃，只要你别老是冲着我叫——”
All of a sudden the door opened, and old Stradlater barged in, in a big hurry. He was always in a big hurry. Everything was a very big deal. He came over to me and gave me these two playful as hell slaps on both cheeks--which is something that can be very annoying. 'Listen," he said. "You going out anywheres special tonight?"
突然间，房门开了，老斯特拉德莱塔一下冲进房来，样子十分匆忙。他者是那么匆忙。一切事情在他看来都是了不起的大事。他走过来象他妈的闹着玩似的在我两边脸上重重拍了两下——这种举动有时真是叫人哭笑不得。“听着，”他说。“你今天晚上有事出去吗？”
"I don't know. I might. What the hell's it doing out--snowing?" He had snow all over his coat.
“我不知道。我可能出去。他妈的外面在干吗啦——下雪了？”他的大衣上全是雪。
"Yeah. Listen. If you're not going out anyplace special, how 'bout lending me your hound's-tooth jacket?"
“是的。听着。你要是不到哪儿去，能不能把你那件狗齿花纹呢上衣借我穿一下？”
"Who won the game?" I said.
“谁赢了？”我说。
"It's only the half. We're leaving," Stradlater said. "No kidding, you gonna use your hound's-tooth tonight or not? I spilled some crap all over my gray flannel."
“还只赛了半场。我们不看了，”斯特拉德莱塔说。“不开玩笑，今晚上你到底穿不穿那件狗齿花纹上衣？我那件灰法兰绒上面全都溅上脏东西啦。”
"No, but I don't want you stretching it with your goddam shoulders and all," I said. We were practically the same heighth, but he weighed about twice as much as I did. He had these very broad shoulders.
“穿倒不穿，只是我不愿意你把肩膀撑得他妈的挺大，”我说。我们俩的身高差不多，可他的体重几乎超过我一倍。他的肩膀宽极了。
"I won't stretch it." He went over to the closet in a big hurry. "How'sa boy, Ackley?" he said to Ackley. He was at least a pretty friendly guy, Stradlater. It was partly a phony kind of friendly, but at least he always said hello to Ackley and all.
“我不会把肩膀撑大的。”他急忙向壁橱走去。“孩子你好，阿克莱？”他跟阿克莱说。斯特拉德莱塔倒是个挺和气的家伙。和气里面带着点儿假，不过他见了阿克莱至少总要打个招呼什么的。
Ackley just sort of grunted when he said "How'sa boy?" He wouldn't answer him, but he didn't have guts enough not to at least grunt. Then he said to me, "I think I'll get going. See ya later."
他说“孩子你好？”的时候，阿克莱好象是哼了一声。他不会回答他，可他没胆量连哼也不哼一声。接着他对我说：“我想我该走了。再见。”
"Okay," I said. He never exactly broke your heart when he went back to his own room.
“好吧，”我说。象他这号人离开你回他自己的房间去，你决不至于为他心碎的。”
Old Stradlater started taking off his coat and tie and all. "I think maybe I'll take a fast shave," he said. He had a pretty heavy beard. He really did.
老斯特拉德莱塔开始脱大衣解领带。“我想马上来个快速刮脸，”他说。他是个大胡子。他的确是。
"Where's your date?" I asked him.
“你的女朋友呢？”我问他。
"She's waiting in the Annex." He went out of the room with his toilet kit and towel under his arm. No shirt on or anything. He always walked around in his bare torso because he thought he had a damn good build. He did, too. I have to admit it.
“她在侧屋等我。”他把洗脸用具和毛巾夹在胳肢窝下走出房去，连衬衫也没穿一件。他老是光着上半身到处跑，因为他觉得自己的体格挺他妈的魁伟。他的体格倒也的确魁伟，这一点我得承认。